


Story of A Dream

by hollowghostling



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: :), Clay | Dream-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Deity Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Gen, Hybrid Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Imprisonment, Manipulation, no beta though i'm pretty sure that's obvious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-18 22:40:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29497443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollowghostling/pseuds/hollowghostling
Summary: In which Dream is taken away from his home in the End realm.
Comments: 14
Kudos: 337





	Story of A Dream

**Author's Note:**

> TW/CW: people get auctioned off, imprisonment, manipulation, being forced to wear clothes one doesn't wanna wear

Dream cannot remember with certainty the exact moment he was born, but he does remember the feeling of the light from the stars seeping into his skin and the warmth of the enderdragon's flames breathing life into his shell of a body. He remembers the beauty of the End as if he was still there, the way the stars would call for him to take part in their celestial dance, how the mighty dragon would beckon him forth to join in her ethereal call, the convincing warbles endermen would make in an attempt to give him blocks of endstone he had no need for. It was home. And it would have remained that way too; he would have been able to continue to exist in the quiet peace of the freezing End, he would have lived under the watch of the guiding stars, but something he had never anticipated happened. A group of humans somehow entered the End.

Their armor shined brightly, a beacon in the darkness that surrounded them, and Dream watched with mild curiosity as they pulled out their weapons, each of them a pretty blue under the shimmering enchantments. The dragon was afraid, and he could feel it. He could feel in the way only a protector of the End is able too, the all consuming emotion filtered through the young god's mind. He drifted down to them, wings barely noticeable in the darkness before he began to speak. Confusion shined on the five mortals' faces, eyes scrunched up as one of them took out a torch from their inventory. It shined across them all, and the dragon still flew nervously around the tall obsidian towers that protruded from the ground. 

The human's eyes glinted with an emotion unknown to him as they examined him, eyes seeming to drift back to his wings, horns, and face repeatedly. Excited sounds left their mouths, and Dream believed them to be words, but if they were, then they weren't in a language he could understand. One of them took out a bow, and before Dream could even blink they had it notched and aimed at the dragon. He reached forward, words dripping with magic being ripped out of his mouth as he tried to stop the fight from even beginning. However, a hand caught his wrist, and he could only struggle, his young teenage body unable still to transform into his godly form. The largest one kept their hold on him, cooing soothing words into his ear. The tone made him shiver in disgust, and he continued to fight, twisting and kicking as he heard the dragon cry out in distress. 

"Please, my guiding stars, tell me what I need to do!" His voice breaks, tears cascading down his pale face as his wings flared out. The void doesn't answer, and a grief he had never felt before bled into his heart, chest constricting as he heard the beautiful beast above him screech in pain once more. 

He thrashed in his captor's grip, wings frantically flapping as his captor finally loosened his grip. He immediately tackled the archer, mouth open and screaming words the human's can't even begin to comprehend. His nails sharpen, and the man is dead within seconds. Pained shouts echo around him, and before he can move away, a cage is cast around him. He thrashed and struggled, tackling the sides that never seemed to give. 

So lost in his efforts to escape, he missed the dragon's final cry before she disappeared in a shower of purple sparks. They rained down from above, and some caressed his face, perhaps to remind him of his failures, before they became one with the void once more. The humans then turned to him, something he would later identify as greed filling their eyes as they glanced at him and saw an opportunity very few would come across. They stepped closer to the cage, and the young god struggled even more, his mortal form unable to find the strength it needed to abandon the cage and soar as high as he could past the reach of their weapons. He scrambled back, emerald eyes wide with fear as the mortals smirk and bring out a potion of weakness. Its contents were splashed onto him, and he could instantly feel as his limbs go weak, a heavy feeling weighing them down as his body goes limp, body unable to even do something as simple as standing. The last thing he saw was the shine of metal bindings being moved towards him before he finally gives in to the heavy syrup that seems to fill his veins and drifts into sleep. 

  
  


He woke up in a small cage, one that was barely able to fit his dragon-like wings inside. It smelled of dust and livestock, and he was disturbed to find that he was bound in shackles, the engraved gold shining in the thin ray of sunlight that crept through the cracked window. He sneezed, and footsteps began to approach him. They stopped right in front of his cage, and he glared at the human in front of him, the same one that had murdered the enderdragon in cold blood. They said something to him, and he couldn't understand it, but the tone made his blood boil and so he growled, the sound echoing throughout the mostly empty room. The man flinched back, and he grinned in satisfaction. It didn't last for long, however, as more cages were moved into the room, and in them, were mortals with animal features. Some of them had wings, others had tusks, some of them had rough patches of green skin, and others had horns similar to those of a sheep. They all looked worse for wear, and their ragged clothing hung loosely off their sunken bodies.

It was clear they weren't treated well, and it made him fear for whatever treatment he would receive in the future. 

  
  


As it turns out, he didn't need to worry about being treated like he was the absolute garbage mankind had ever seen. No, instead, he was treated like he was made of porcelain, like he wasn't a person but instead a decorative piece. Every time even a speck of dirt found itself on his face it was wiped clean immediately, and even when he growled with all of his might, they never stopped, even going so far as to clean the rest of him in a humiliating display. He was never allowed to eat by himself for they would always push the food to his lips themselves, never once allowing him independence. His hair was washed constantly, and they kept it long, allowing it to grow further still as they put in a substance that made it shine. He was never free, and when the time came that he was to be put into the auction, they took away his previous clothes. And although they had basically been rags, the new silk felt too soft on his skin and the miserable sounds of the others in the cages near him being beat near constantly only flooded his mind with guilt. They put on beautiful jewelry that accented his features, and the new silk robes he was in were put on to accent his figure and distract the audience from the fancy golden chains that kept him in place. 

A cover was placed over his cage, and he could only wait as he felt the telltale signs of movement as he was carted onto the stage. All of the others had already been sold, and he was the final attraction of the night. The darkness was lifted, and a blinding light caused him to shut his eyes and look down, golden hair now even more easily seen by the crowd.

When he looked up again, he was met with what felt like a million stares at once, and he wanted to look away again, but he found himself intrigued by the strange clothing the humans all seemed to be wearing. None of them were wearing robes like his; in fact, they only seemed to wear dresses and suits. The observation made him uncomfortable, and he felt even worse as the clothes made him look more like some sort of statue that would only be bought to sit prettily by some rich person's side. His chest felt tight, and the urge to escape sang in his veins with a powerful intensity. And, just as he was about to struggle, the cover was paced back over him, and the sound of voices shouting out something he could identify as numbers brought a pit of dread at the bottom of his stomach. The sound of a mallet striking wood sounded only a moment later, and Dream knew his fate was set in stone. 

  
  


The noble who bought him was a kind man. Rather, Dream knew he thought he was kind to him. But the collar on his neck said otherwise, the way its light pressure still made him feel like he was choking wasn't kind, it was cruel. However, the way he was treated even more delicately than before, the way he wasn't even allowed outside brought him a crushing sadness that weighed him down and caused everyday to become more and more of a hardship. Each day he was fed by maids, their skilled hands cutting any food made by the cooks with precision he never knew possible by mortals as they softly told him to open his mouth, as their soft voices lessened the impact of their words as if he was so frail that a voice being even a decibel higher than normal would put a crack through his pretty porcelain face. The food would taste like ash in his mouth, the flavors being lost to him as he is then whisked away to be dressed up in whatever suited his buyer's fancy. He was forced into dresses, and he was forced into delicate robes, ones made of even smoother silk than the one's the auction house had placed him in. But despite the lightness and smoothness of the silk, he still felt as though it was choking him, as though every light touch on his body from the material would crush him until he died.

It was only later, when he had finally gathered enough words and courage to ask, that he questioned why he never wore suits to a maid. The maid never replied, but his master visited him later, telling him that a beauty such as himself shouldn't wear men's clothes, and Dream felt like crying. Both of them knew he was a man, and it was apparent in the silk robes he had been forced into that day, but it still made him feel disappointed. And, the next day, as if to show him what happens when he questions his master's choices, he was forced into a dress, one with many frills and an opening for his wings in the back that was so large he felt uncomfortable exposed. He never questioned the man again, and instead he continued to be the doll he was forced to become. He never moved unless ordered. He opened his mouth for the maids automatically, eating the food despite his lack of appetite and how its taste nearly made gag. He allowed himself to be dressed in whatever the man desired, and he never spoke again to them again. 

Everything was so bleak, so unchanging, so depressing, but he carried on anyway. He continued to live the life his owner wanted him to have, and if that meant he wasn't even allowed to bath himself, that he wasn't even allowed an ounce of independence, then so be it. And, his life would have stayed that way too had the new maid, one he has long since forgotten the name of. She apparently fought in a big war, one he had never heard of, and so when she saw him in that state, muscles having fallen prey to the atrophy born from constantly being coddled, she immediately began her quest to save him. Dream had never seen someone like her before, someone so brave and strong in the mortal realm, and so he was nearly afraid of her. However, she continued to approach him, and one day, Dream spoke to her. His voice was raspy, and he had a heavy accent, but the lady only smiled at him and the rest was history.

She taught him how to speak the language more fluently, and in the late hours of the night he was taught how to read and write. A few days after that Dream learned how to braid his long hair. A few weeks later and he was taught how to wield a dagger, a month after that, and she showed him how to handle an axe. Dream felt better than he had in ages, and he was finally beginning to find happiness in the dollhouse. And, one day, as he stared at the dagger given to him by the fierce maid, he knew things were going to be okay.

  
  


He wanted to scream, but something held him back. Tears flowed freely down his porcelain face, and he tried to grasp at the maid's hand, whimpers coming out of his mouth as she was dragged away and over to the burning pyre in the front of the lawn. "See, pet, this is what happens when you selfishly try to be free."

The tears fell down harder, and all he could do was stare as the maid was pulled further and further away from him as he struggled in his owner's grip. "Fly away! You need to fly! Be free as you ought to be!"

The maid's voice rang through the lawn loud and clear, and before he could second guess himself, he opened his wings, muscles already strengthened from the stretching they did on them together every morning, before he took off. Screams sounded behind him, but he couldn't look back for he knew that if he did, the sight of the maid would persuade him to go back on a fool's errand to save her. As it was, he could already feel his heart being torn to shreds from the one person who seemed to care about him being left behind.

  
  


Years passed, and Dream learned more about humanity. He recognized when they began to fear the unknown, and so when he was able, he crafted a mask of porcelain and engraved enchantments that would prevent his inhuman features from being seen. I worked out very well, and he became one of the best fighters in the world as he didn't have any hybrid features for those who loved to discriminate. The god always paid respects to his teacher, the one maid that taught him what he knew about the axe, and he paid his respects to the enderdragon, always thanking her for teaching him the fierceness he needed to continue to live on and protect those he cares for. And, as his heart is big and has room for many, he grew to care for his biggest rival, a hybrid who beat the system and was recognized as one of the best fighters in the world, and he had also begun to care for two young men that go by the names George and Sapnap. All three of them are hybrids, Techno's being the most obvious, while Sapnap's blaze hybrid side was only seen in his tendencies to commit arson and George's elder guardian side was more easily observed in how well he took to water as well as the constant exhaustion that plagued his body and lured him to sleep as a result of a mutated miners fatigue.

They were all his friends, and what better way to show he cared for them than to build a sanctuary for hybrids? So, he painstaking looked for land, stretching his abilities as far as they could go before he finally found a suitable place. It was beautiful, a shimmering lake surrounded by lush greenery. Flowers littered the field around it, all of the colors providing beautiful specs of color that they could all appreciate- well, George couldn't, but that's because he was color blind. They got to work right away, spending our upon hours cutting down trees and making planks to make a house. They were happy, and once they were finished, they stared proudly at it, a giddy feeling spreading through their chests at the idea of a home away from discrimination, of a home where they can be truly free. 

More hybrids found their way there, and they all became a small community. And, upon seeing the chaos caused by the youngest member of their new home, the Dream SMP they called it, he decided to share the rules he, Sapnap, and George had agreed upon. There was to be no killing, no stealing, nor was anyone allowed to destroy creation built by another's hands without their permission first. The rules seemed to work at first, and everything was going very well for them, and Dream was so happy to see so many hybrids in one place free from the effects of discrimination. And, it would have stayed that way too, they would have all been happier, he thinks now, had Wilbur Soot, a friend of Tommy's not come across his land. 

The man began to spread lies from his mouth on the first day he arrived, honeyed words convincing Tommy, and by association Tubbo, to join his cause to make drugs. Now, Dream had expected better of them, so he prepared to send him out when his two best friends stopped him and told him to leave it be. Surely he would calm down? So, they placed a new rule, one stating that the excessive creation of drugs was prohibited. 

He was called a tyrant, and the first seeds of doubt were sown into the minds of his friends. 

A war was waged, the so called L'manburg, a country which was born upon a throne of lies fighting against the tyrant Dream. "He's just controlling us! Can't you see, he's not a hybrid! He doesn't know our pain! I say we put him in his place!" 

The words stung, and although he would've loved to prove them wrong, he couldn't show them what he is. _He couldn't go back._ _No no no no no no no no-_

The Dream SMP wins, and it was then that Dream's friends began to doubt. It was then that they began to see him as human, as something other and harmful to them. And it was then that they all began to paint the god as a monster, that they began to see their actions as heroic and true, sweeping anything bad they may have done under the rug while at the same time highlighting every small thing Dream has done that they dislike as bright as they could make it. He began to be isolated, and it hurt. He thought they were his friends, he thought that maybe he could learn how to grow close to someone once more and never let go, but he was instead pushed away. Offers to hang out were waved off with different excuses, and he felt so alone. 

A ram hybrid by the name of Schlatt joined, and he took over L'manburg, changing its name to better suit where he came from. Everybody hated him, and their animosity only grew as they saw that he's an alcoholic. It broke Dream's heart, so he switched sides. Where he used to eagerly assist Pogtopia before to redeem himself, he now stood with Schlatt, and it seemed his friends had the same idea to switch sides because he found himself facing them in battle. Each attack sent a javelin through Dream's aching heart, and he wanted so badly to go back home, but he was trapped. The stars have long since abandoned him and left him to teach himself of his abilities, none of which include knowing how to get back, and so he stayed. He stayed even when it hurt because at least there he wasn't treated like glass, at least there he was treated with the same roughness as any warrior ought to be. He sticks by Techno either way, but in the end, he found himself disappointed when the hybrid seemed to feel a small seed of distrust, likely born from his supposed human status.

Wilbur blew up L'manburg, and Dream felt the muscles of his back twitch. He wanted to fly so badly, but what would they say? He’s seen enough actions from mortals to know he'd still be seen as a monster, so he pushed down the urge and revels instead in the feeling of freedom born from the destruction of a parasite of the land. Techno forced himself into exile, and Dream found some more land to live in while his friends recovered from whatever losses they may have faced. 

Ghostbur goes to him a few weeks later, ghostly body still new, and Dream could tell it wasn't the innocent Ghostbur everyone else sees as soon as a transparent thumb swiped across his cheek, sensation barley there but enough to cause shivers to travel down his spine, and he leaned in. "Pretty Dream, so fragile, it's almost as if you were made of porcelain. At least, that's what the void told me."

Dream watched, body tense, as tears of laughter traveled down the ghost's face, hands already reaching for his discarded mask when the spectral figure seemed to glitch. And gone was his cruel expression and back again was the amnesiac ghost that knew nothing of him. He left before the ghost could get a hold of his bearings, and a heavy and sad feeling settled in his body. He felt so alone. 

The land continued to meet new conflicts, they fought and fought and fought until finally Dream formed a plan. He commissioned Sam, a creeper hybrid whose abilities with redstone were very hard pressed to be outmatched, to build a prison. Then, in an unexpected turn of events, Tommy was exiled, and Dream was left unsure of what to do. But, upon seeing Tommy look so lonely and uncared for, he vowed to fix that when it was just the two of them. He treated Tommy as he had been in the past, and he visited the boy often to get away from the main SMP. More specifically, to get away from the two he used to call his best friends. Well, they couldn't be called that anymore, especially not after the way they had screamed at him. His heart broke a little bit more at the thought of their speech, how they shouted until their voices went hoarse that he didn't care for him. However, he was easily able to keep away the sad thoughts when he focused on Tommy.

It confused Dream when Tommy struggled so much, for what was the issue with putting any and all objects that would harm him away as well as making sure he was healthy? He was treated as if he was glass when he was smaller, so why wasn't Tommy grateful for the freedom he had given him? He asked this to Tommy one day, and the boy looked up, eyes dull and grey, before saying that he was happy, and that he was thankful for Dream for taking care of him. It made Dream smile, and when he ruffled Tommy's hair, he was pleased to see him smile too, pale skin, all smooth and perfect, slightly flushed from happiness at even the smallest amount of human contact. One week later, Tommy began to hug Dream, pulling him in for one every time he saw him, and the god only felt relief that the poor child finally had someone who would take care of him. 

However, all good things must come to an end, and so when Tommy went through three consecutive weeks with good behavior, Dream rowed him back, and the boy's exile was lifted. Dream could tell the boy was devastated, but when he asked, Tommy only shook his head and made Dream promise to visit him. He could only accept, and Tommy walked back into L'manburg with a slight bounce in his step, already eager for Dream's next visit. 

The prison was done, and Dream examined it with Sam, both of them looking through the machinery to make sure there'd be no errors. 

"So, why the need for a prison?" Sam's tone was light, but Dream could hear the underlying hissing within it.

"Well, there's been a lot of chaos here, so I figured it would be convenient to have a place to hold the trouble makers while they're taught what they did was wrong."

Sam hummed, and just like that, the conversation was over.

"It's over Dream, hand over all of your items." Tommy stood in front of him, arms wide as the rest of the residents in Dream's land raised their weapons towards him. "Come on guys, I'm sure he hasn't done anything bad enough to go to prison."

"Tommy," Puffy began, voice sweet and full of placating tones, "he's manipulating you."

His chest constricted, and Dream felt as though he would choke from the amount of animosity the hybrid seemed to hold toward him. He wasn't manipulating Tommy, he was just giving him the care he needed, the kind he needed himself back when he was captured and sold. The two looked at each other, grey eyes staring into the black beady one's from Dream's mask. What were they talking about? They focused only on Tommy's confusion, choosing to ignore the one they believed to be human in favor of the avian boy whose feathers were still pristine from the deep cleaning Dream gave them the previous day. Tommy seemed uncertain then, and Dream could feel his heart drop as the boy moved forward, abandoning him and leaving him on his own side, alone. Dream watched as they brought him into a hug, some tears being shed, and jealousy began to creep through his veins. Why couldn't the void have held him like that? Why couldn't they? Why was he always the one left to deal with the world alone?

So caught up in his musings, he failed to notice the figures approaching him until it was too late. His axe was stolen from him before he could even blink, and swift hands unlatched his armor, leaving it hanging loosely off of his retreating form. Punz, Sapnap, and Sam stepped forward, beckoning for him to drop his armor, and he was suddenly thrust back to times where he was gently told to let go of something, how he was talked to as if he would shatter from just words. His jaw cramped from how hard he was grinding his teeth together. And, before he knew it, he was being led to a cell that was definitely not within the regulations they had set. He dug his heels in the ground, thrashing desperately in Sapnap's grip as he was led in, and before he knew it his mask was knocked off, and his wings shimmered into existence before he attempted to fly away. Sam caught his foot, and he was bound in chains, wings folded uncomfortably to his back. He was thrown in with little fanfare, and this cell, the one he had not planned for was still so new to him, and he feared what it meant. 

Food came in through a dispenser in the ceiling, and it was the only thing Dream could reach from where he stood chained and confined to the rough obsidian wall. A clock ticked just out of his reach, and every time the hand moved, he swore the ticking got louder and louder until it was all he could hear. The potatoes crumbled like ash in his mouth, and on the rare occasion bread was dropped, all he could taste was mold and hard crust from the spoiled food reserves. The unbearably hot obsidian burned blisters into the bottom of his feet, and he couldn't do anything as the pain continued to grow. At one point, the chains that held him, began to glow with heat, and he could feel his skin peeling from the serious burns as well as smell his burning flesh as he was practically being cooked alive. Another wave of sweltering heat attacks him from ever direction, and he screams, sweat dripping down his back like river and leaving him feeling just the same if not worse than before. 

Sam went in at one point, checking to make sure he was secure before giving him water. It was lukewarm an it had done nothing to soothe his throat, but he still drank it anyway. He lapped at it like a dog as the warden placed the dog bowl from which it was in right before his face, and jaded eyes opened to meet surprised murky hues as Sam continued to make him drink the water as though he was an animal. Shame invaded his senses and made his cheeks flush, but they were already pink and feverishly warm from being in the cell for so long so it went unnoticed. Sam left as soon as he was done, not a single moment of hesitance shown in his stance, and Dream just felt so disappointed. The prison was supposed to be a place for people to learn what they had done, so why was he stuck here without an explanation? He let the question drift into the air where its meaning fizzled and dies into nothingness without a single shred of hope of being answered. He was alone again, and the ticking of the cock kept him company as he continued to feel his skin bubble and pop.

And maybe it was because he had no visitors before that he believed Sapnap to be a hallucination. Maybe it was because he hadn't even held the hand of another being for so long that he began to prefer the days when he was treated like a mere decoration (because at least he felt the hands of his caretakers traveling across his skin in an effort to keep him pristine and beautiful) that he thought Sapnap's touch to be a falsehood born of his own suffering mind. 

"Dream, you need to help us defeat the egg." Oh. Dream knew exactly what he was talking about; he remembered leaving the egg where it was as its divine aura seemed to gently nudge him away.

The chains dropped to the floor, and Dream fell with them. His aching feet screamed with agony as pressure is directly applied to his wounds, and he was shown no sympathy by those he held dear, their hold on him rough as they practically drag him out. They avoid his burns, and Dream feels like screeching at both of them when they pretend not to notice how much pain he was in, when they ignore the way his skin is black and charred from where the chains touched. 

When they finally reach the outside of the prison, Dream nearly sobbed with relief as the cool breeze gently caressed his twisted skin. The grass poked into his feet, and before he could focus on anything else, an axe was placed in his hands; it was the one he made himself, the one they had stolen from him. He hobbled with them, wings flapping in an attempt to keep the pressure off of his feet. They reach the egg eventually, and it feels almost familiar to him. He steps toward it, ignoring the demanding calls of the mortals behind him, and the egg unfurls like a flower, petals lined with the void as it whispers and calls out to him. A vine carefully wrapped around his waist to pull him in, and maybe he's fine with being handled like he's as fragile just this once. 

He closes his eyes, and a cooling sensation passes through him, wounds healing until no marks are left behind. He opens his eyes, and he's home. The stars call to him once more, the baby enderdragon sings as well as she's able to, and the endermen attempt to hand him blocks once more. A promise is made that he will serve his purpose as protector of the End, and he feels content with the knowledge that he will never be forced to interact with mortals ever again. A block of endstone is placed into his hands, and he smiles wider than he ever has before as feeling he has never felt before fills his damaged soul and makes him feel as though he's floating. He has never felt happier, and he will ensure the end is protected enough for all of its inhabitants to feel that way for the rest of his life.

**Author's Note:**

> I was not completly awake while writing this, so I'd really appreciate it if y'all could tell me if I missed any trigger warnings or tags :)
> 
> Anyway, I hope y'all enjoyed :D


End file.
